


take my hand

by nightswatch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4813451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras keeps finding himself with Grantaire's hand in his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take my hand

**Author's Note:**

> For [weisbrot](http://weisbrot.tumblr.com/), who didn't actually ask for this.

**Autumn**

“Enjolras, come on, everyone’s waiting for you.”

Enjolras only groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Nah...”

Grantaire snorted. “Seriously, they’re all outside already and they wanna go to the Corinthe.” He poked at Enjolras’ shoulder. “You can’t be _that_ drunk.”

“Yes, I can,” Enjolras said almost defiantly. He turned to look at Grantaire, who was looking down at him expectantly, and made a face. “Everything’s wobbly, I don’t think I can walk anymore, walking is hard.”

“There’s a bunch of people out there who’ll gladly help you with that,” Grantaire said. He pulled at Enjolras’ arm. “Come on.”

Enjolras should have never agreed to this. He knew exactly what he got like when he drank too much. He could have said no to all those tequila shots. Three. He’d had three tequila shots. And now his head was swimming and he couldn’t concentrate on anything and he wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen if he tried to stand up. He had a feeling that he might fall right over.

“Enjolras...” He could hear the smile in Grantaire’s voice. “What are you gonna do, sit here forever?”

“That is a fantastic idea, actually.”

Grantaire pulled at his arm again, but let go when Enjolras didn’t budge. “Do you want me to take you home?”

Well, Enjolras wouldn’t mind going to bed _right now_ , he was sure he’d sleep exceptionally well, but if he said yes, Grantaire would have to leave as well, and Enjolras was pretty sure that Grantaire didn’t want to go home just yet.  So Enjolras shook his head. Which was _such_ a bad idea because it made him feel even dizzier. He reached for Grantaire’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Grantaire pulled him off his chair and led him outside, where they were greeted by their friends, all of them cheering. Apparently they’d been waiting for a while. Enjolras was still thinking about what a strange concept time was when Grantaire started tugging him along. Right, he was still holding his hand. And maybe that was a good thing, because even though Enjolras had enough confidence in his drunk self to think that he’d find the way to the Corinthe on his own, in reality he’d probably manage to lose his friends and take a wrong turn. Or several wrong turns. So he should hold on to Grantaire’s hand for now.

Enjolras was trailing a few steps behind him, making sure that he wouldn’t stumble over his own feet. Grantaire glanced over his shoulder every now and again, and he seemed to find this whole thing incredibly amusing because he kept smiling at him. Enjolras couldn’t really hold it against him, he was very well aware that he must be looking pretty ridiculous, so he only smiled back at him.

Even though Enjolras wasn’t exactly feeling cold with all those tequila shots he’d had, he was still glad when they finally ducked into the Corinthe where the cold wind couldn’t get to them. Grantaire was still pulling him with him, past the people that were milling about inside and to one of the empty tables. Enjolras followed him without much of a protest.

They ended up sitting next to each other, well, more like _squeezed_ next to each other, on one of those uncomfortable wooden benches. The Corinthe wasn’t Enjolras’ favorite establishment, and not just because of the uncomfortable furniture. It was loud and crowded and the food was horrendous. Which was unfortunate, because Enjolras was starting to get a little hungry.

Courfeyrac ordered another round of tequila and Enjolras wanted to protest, but his head was still spinning ever so slightly, so he decided that it was for the best to keep his mouth shut.

Grantaire shifted next to him and shot him a glance, his eyebrows raised. “You okay?”

“Sure, yeah,” Enjolras said, although he was feeling far from fine. He should have gone home after all.

Enjolras was pretty sure that everyone around him had had twice as much to drink as he had, yet none of them actually seemed that drunk to him. Joly and Bossuet were joking around just like they always did when they were sober, Bahorel and Jehan were studying the menu, both of their faces determined – maybe they were thinking about getting something to eat. Combeferre was trying to balance peanuts on his fingertips and, okay, maybe he was a bit drunk.

Enjolras’ train of thought was interrupted when Grantaire squeezed his hand ever so slightly. Right, he was _still_ holding Grantaire’s hand. He probably should have let go of it a long time ago. Maybe he could blame this on being drunk – he really couldn’t – but he liked holding Grantaire’s hand a lot.

He needed to let go, though. Because he wasn’t that drunk. He still knew what he was doing, even though everything was a little fuzzy around the edges. That was probably also why Grantaire had given him that weird look earlier. Because Enjolras was making him uncomfortable; he really needed to let go right now.

Enjolras pulled his hand away very, very slowly, and he could see Grantaire flexing his fingers out of the corner of his eye. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been holding on that tightly. Before he had time to be embarrassed about this, Bahorel set down another tequila shot in front of his nose. Well, it wasn’t like things could get that much worse this evening, so he took it.

 

**Winter**

“Can we just...” Enjolras trailed off because no one was listening to him anyway. They’d gone outside to see the fireworks, even though the weather wasn’t exactly in their favor. Enjolras was pretty sure that they’d see nothing but an overcast, cloudy sky.

Midnight was only a couple of minutes away and Courfeyrac was, very clumsily, pouring champagne into plastic cups. Enjolras had been drinking water all evening, but he did take one of the cups when Courfeyrac handed one to him. He was quite surprised that he was still capable of holding anything because his fingers were very close to frozen at the moment. He’d wanted to put on his gloves but he hadn’t been able to find it in the chaos of scarves and hats that his friends had left behind, so he’d just pulled on his jacket like everyone else.

Quite frankly, Enjolras just wanted to go back inside. It wasn’t like anyone would notice, because a few minutes from now they’d all be busy kissing and hugging and Enjolras could still kiss and hug them later when they were back inside, where it was warm and his hands and feet wouldn’t feel like they were about to fall off anymore.

Enjolras took a step back, bumping right into Grantaire, who let out a surprised yelp. He seemed to have just come outside.

“Sorry,” Enjolras muttered. “Didn’t see you.”

“Well, that’s what I get for wearing all black.” Grantaire grinned. He seemed to have been able to find his beanie, although it had obviously taken him a couple of minutes. Maybe Enjolras should give finding his gloves another try. Grantaire tilted his head. “Did you want to get past?”

“No.” Enjolras huffed, his breath fogging in the cold air. “Well, yes, but...” Even though the thought was tempting, it was probably rude to just go back inside and Enjolras knew from experience that it’d take his friends ages to join him there. He’d undoubtedly feel pretty ridiculous sitting around on Jehan’s couch all by himself, surrounded by discarded party hats and plates with leftover food. So he stayed, trying not to concentrate too hard on whether or not he could feel his fingertips. “It’s cold,” Enjolras finally said.

Grantaire hummed. “If I wasn’t sure that I’d freeze to death, I’d totally offer you my jacket.”

“Well, it’s the thought that counts,” Enjolras said. He set down his cup on the window ledge and rubbed his hands together. “Why do we always have to go outside, it’s not like they’ll see anything when they’re making out.”

Grantaire let out a wheezing laugh. “But it’s so romantic,” he said and cupped Enjolras’ hands in his, just like that. “Christ, your hands are freezing.”

That was hardly news to Enjolras. But Grantaire’s hands were warm, still calloused, like last time, only now Enjolras could really appreciate it because he hadn’t been compromised by tequila shots. He’d thought about this way too much during the last couple of months and every time he did he had to force himself to think of something else to keep his mind from wandering into a direction where he and Grantaire were doing a little more than just holding hands. Grantaire’s thumb swept over the back of his hand and Enjolras’ stomach gave a jolt.

“You should get yourself a pair of gloves,” Grantaire mumbled.

“They’re inside somewhere,” Enjolras said. He was staring down at their hands, only vaguely aware of their friends who’d started counting down to midnight.

It didn’t take too long until they were all yelling _happy new year_ and hugging each other and Enjolras’ hands were still trapped between Grantaire’s and he had absolutely no wish to move them. Ever. He tore his eyes off their hands and looked around, finding all of their friends occupied.

“Well,” Grantaire said, following his gaze, “happy new year.”

“To you too,” Enjolras said. He almost wanted to lean in to kiss Grantaire. Almost. But this wasn’t the right time or the right place. He’d tell him, he’d promised himself, but he hadn’t quite worked up the courage to do it yet.

“Still cold?” Grantaire asked.

“It’s alright now.”

Grantaire dropped his hands, then.

“Actually,” Enjolras said, “I think they’ll get cold again pretty quickly.”

Grantaire raised his eyebrows at him and for a split-second Enjolras thought he was going to laugh at him, but in the end he just smiled and took Enjolras’ hands again.

 

**Spring**

“Enjolras...”

Enjolras shook his head. He didn’t want to talk, not even to Grantaire. _Especially_ not to Grantaire.

“Enjolras, it’s raining.”

Well, Enjolras had certainly noticed that it was raining. The alternative was to go back inside and talk to his friends, who’d surely try their best to cheer him up.

Grantaire stepped outside. Enjolras wished that he hadn’t. “Go back inside.”

“You should come inside with me,” Grantaire said. He leaned against the brick wall, because he obviously knew exactly that Enjolras wasn’t going to come back inside with him.

Maybe it would have been better if they hadn’t met at the Musain after the protest. When they’d made those plans, Enjolras had thought that things would go differently today. He’d thought they’d have reason to celebrate. They’d meant for it to be a peaceful protest, then at first hardly any people had shown up and those who had shown up had been pretty keen on starting a fight.

“I know that you think it was your fault that things didn’t go too well today, but there was nothing wrong with your planning, it was just–”

“Please don’t,” Enjolras said and, much to his surprise, Grantaire immediately fell silent. For once, Grantaire was right, that was exactly what he was thinking. It was true, it was his fault, and now he had to deal with it. He did appreciate that his friends wanted to cheer him up, but he’d rather sulk on his own.

Grantaire still wasn’t leaving, though. He remained leaning against the wall, apparently not bothered by the rain that was slowly but surely soaking through his shirt.

“You’re going to get a cold,” Enjolras muttered.

“Well, I could go back inside, where it’s nice and warm and there’s hot chocolate,” Grantaire said wistfully, “but I told Combeferre that I’d make sure you’re okay and you don’t seem okay to me.”

“I’m fine,” Enjolras said. He rolled his eyes. “I’m just grumpy, why won’t people let me be grumpy.”

“You’re allowed to be grumpy.” Grantaire gave him a nudge. “We just don’t want you to blame yourself for something you had absolutely no control of.”

Enjolras huffed. “Since when do you care so much about our protests anyway?”

“I care about you,” Grantaire said, barely louder than the patter of the rain.

Enjolras glanced over at him, but Grantaire was persistently staring straight ahead. Enjolras reached out, his fingers slowly curling around Grantaire’s wrist and when Grantaire didn’t pull his arm away, Enjolras slid his hand down, interlacing their fingers.

He still hadn’t told him how he felt. Enjolras usually knew what to say, but now he suddenly seemed to have trouble finding the right words. Quite frankly, he was starting to get annoyed with himself.

Grantaire squeezed his hand but didn’t otherwise say anything. Enjolras didn’t mind just standing there in silence for a while. The rain was letting up as well and turned first into drizzle and then stopped completely. Grantaire was running his thumb over the back of his hand again, slowly, steadily.

Enjolras shivered and he was sure that it wasn’t only because he was just now starting to feel the cold. He snuck another glance at Grantaire. He was staring down at his feet now, his other hand buried in the pocket of his jeans. Grantaire looked tired, Enjolras hadn’t noticed earlier. There were droplets of water still clinging to the tips of his hair.

“You should probably get out of those wet clothes,” Enjolras muttered.

Grantaire looked up, smirking at him. “Yeah, are you gonna help me out of them?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Well, Enjolras should be used to this sort of thing from Grantaire, but his face still felt really hot all of a sudden. “No, I’m... you’re... you’re gonna get sick,” Enjolras spluttered. “And then you’re gonna be unbearable for at least a week.”

Grantaire grinned. A raindrop landed on his nose. “Well, we should get inside before the rain starts again.”

Enjolras hummed and let Grantaire pull him into the doorway but no further than that. Actually, he wanted to go home. No, _actually_ , he was sort of preoccupied with how close he and Grantaire were now that they were both huddled into the narrow hallway that led past the kitchen and to the back door.

“Grantaire...” He could say it now, he could just say it and get it out of the way. He had a feeling that Grantaire was probably even waiting for him to finally do it. “Thank you,” he said and he knew that that was all he’d manage today.  

Grantaire smiled at him and lifted up his hand. “Sure, anytime,” he said and planted a quick kiss on top of his knuckles, just a brush of lips that knocked all the air out of Enjolras’ lungs. “You’re right,” he went on, not quite managing to sound casual, “we should probably head home, it’s no fun to sit around in these wet clothes. How about I tell the others that you left?”

Enjolras knew that he should say goodbye to their friends, but Grantaire was offering him an easy way out and he was inclined to take it. “Tell them I’ll see them at the meeting on Monday, okay?”

Grantaire nodded. For a moment it looked like he wanted to say something else, but in the end he just gave Enjolras’ hand another squeeze before he let go and walked down the hallway.

**Summer**

“See, the movie wasn’t that bad...”

“That’s debatable,” Enjolras said, but he was smiling. He’d been smiling all evening. It seemed that Grantaire was just as good at making him smile as he was at pissing him off.

No matter how terrible that movie had been, Enjolras was really just glad that they’d finally managed to go out on a date. And Enjolras had to admit that it wasn’t thanks to him. It was Grantaire who’d eventually come up to him and had asked him if he wanted to have dinner. They were doing that tomorrow.

Today they’d run into each other at the Musain and had decided to go see a movie at the tiny cinema around the corner from Grantaire’s apartment. There hadn’t been much to choose from and they had ended up watching a strange indie film without much of a plot. Enjolras had noticed the lack of plot, but only barely because Grantaire had been holding his hand throughout and it had been mildly distracting.  

“I did have a good time, though,” Enjolras said, just in case that hadn’t been clear before.

“Good,” Grantaire said. He looked at Enjolras for a moment, slowing his steps, then he held out his hand. “Are you taking the bus home?”

Enjolras took his hand. “I think I’ll walk you home first if you don’t mind,” he said. Grantaire’s place was literally just around the corner, but not exactly on the way to the bus stop that Enjolras needed to go to. He wouldn’t mind a little detour, though.

They both didn’t seem to be too keen on actually getting to Grantaire’s, so they walked slowly, chatting idly, and where they should have turned left, they kept walking straight ahead. It was still warm outside and there were people still out and about all around. Grantaire pointed out his favorite restaurant – “That’s not where I’m talking you tomorrow, but we could go there sometime” – and eventually they ended up walking past the Musain again.

When they reached Grantaire’s building, Grantaire looked down at their joined hands and bit his lip. “How do you feel about kissing on the first date?”

“I’m not opposed,” Enjolras said, when in truth he was only not opposed because it was Grantaire who’d asked. But that didn’t change anything about his answer.

Grantaire let go of his hands then, only to wrap his arms around Enjolras, pulling him close so he could give Enjolras a gentle kiss. And another one. “You know,” Grantaire mumbled and took a step back, “you could always come upstairs. For some more, um,” Grantaire hooked his pinky around Enjolras', “super hardcore hand-holding?”

Enjolras smiled. “Yes, that’d be nice.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [writing blog](http://musains.tumblr.com/).


End file.
